


The Whites of Their Eyes

by Rose_of_Pollux



Series: Inktober for Writers 2017 [23]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-22 00:11:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12469112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: Like Napoleon, Illya was once granted three wishes by Bastet.  He never found the need to use them–until now.





	The Whites of Their Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt 23 of Inktober for Writers: Wishes

Illya had always been skeptical about anything unexplained; it was his nature. It was why after hearing and seeing evidence that the cat he shared with Napoleon was the offspring of Bastet, he still hadn’t utilized the three wishes that, according to legend, he had received from the cat goddess.

Napoleon had, apparently, used all of his wishes in the in the span of six months, and insisted they had all come true. Illya had just shaken his head and humored him, confident that any dilemma he might have could be something that he could easily resolve himself. And so the years had gone by, their cat, Baba Yaga, having recently had a litter of kittens, with Illya’s three wishes still untouched.

That changed one night, after a run-in with THRUSH in the ruins of an ancient village. Restless spirits had dwelled the area, though Illya hadn’t believed the rumors, dismissing them as fodder for the tourists.

The spirits attacked them all relentlessly, their eyes glowing an angry white. One by one, they latched onto the THRUSHies, and the THRUSHies’ eyes began to glow white as well as they fell under their influence.

“Run, Illya-- _run_!” Napoleon yelled.

He had pushed Illya ahead as they were fleeing, and the spirits caught up to him first, latching their cold hands onto him.

“Napoleon!”

Illya stared, horrified, as Napoleon’s eyes began to flicker, glowing white as the spirits struggled to take control, but then reverting back to normal as he struggled to stay in control of himself.

“Illya… keep going…” he said, sinking to his knees. “Keep…” He trailed off as his entire body shuddered, his eyes flickering again back and forth. He regained control for a moment, and looked up at Illya, meeting his gaze, and allowing a single tear to fall down his face. “…I love you…”

“Napoleon!” Illya cried, sinking to his knees, as well.

How could he leave his partner now? How!? He loved Napoleon, too—he had to help him somehow…!

A sob of despair caught in Illya’s throat as he realized that he had no way of saving Napoleon. Tranquilizers and bullets didn’t work on spirits. It was why he hated and despised the supernatural—he had no defense against it. And now he couldn’t help the one most important in his life.

“Napoleon…” he whispered, his voice quivering. “Napoleon, forgive me… I… I cannot…” A tear fell from his eye now as Napoleon cringed in pain, the spirits grasping at him even more. They were ignoring Illya completely; Napoleon’s iron will was the challenge that mattered most to them.

And as Illya yelled and cursed at the spirits to leave Napoleon alone, he grew desperate enough to fall back on the wishes he had been sitting on all this time.

“O, Bastet, I beseech thee, I wish for you to save my beloved Napoleon from this fate,” he pleaded.

His words were answered by an angry cat screech. The large, black cat—larger than any cat Illya had ever seen, padded across the sand towards them at full speed, hissing. The spirits took to the skies as she approached; even the ones latched on to Napoleon let him go, vanishing into the night.

Napoleon fell to the sand like a ragdoll, and Illya gently cradled him in his arms.

“Napoleon!” he whispered. “Napoleon, speak to me!”

“…Illya…?” he murmured. He looked up at him and managed a wan smile. “You’re okay…!”

Illya looked at him in disbelief.

“Of course I am okay; you were the one…” He trailed off, shaking his head and gently kissing him. Napoleon would always put himself last; why was Illya even surprised anymore? “Well, at least I know you will be alright.”

He looked to Bastet and gave a small nod.

“Thank you,” he said.

She stayed with them, not moving from the spot until Napoleon was well enough to stand again, after which she helped them take the THRUSHies (still out cold) back to the nearest town for booking.

Napoleon made a full recovery from his ordeal, and as for Illya, he was more determined than ever to sit on his remaining two wishes.

He was certain he’d be using them another day to save his partner. And as far as he was concerned, those would be wishes well-spent.


End file.
